Through the Eyes of a Chipette
by Miss Hal Gibson
Summary: A series of short, slightly depressing drabbles based on the lives of The Chipettes.
1. The Leech

**AN: I'm staring a series of drabbles based on little events in the lives of The Chipettes. All of them will be unrelated, and every single one will be slightly depressing, whether it be the plot or just the tone. Almost all of them will be based on events that have happened to me or someone I know. I hope they are somewhat enjoyable to someone. ****  
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**The Chipmunks and Chipettes belong to Ross Bagdasarian and Janice Karman. I own nothing.  
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**The Leech**

Eleanor Miller scrambled to collect her things from her school desk when the bell rang. The shortest Chipette ran to catch up with her best friend when she walked out the door. She had to be fast, considering her friend would never actually wait for her.

Perhaps she was delusional. People changed, they made new friends. But she was a stubborn one, and couldn't force herself to let go.

The spunky, sporty girl was never one to let people walk all over her. Nope, that wasn't her. She would always stand up for herself, she'd let nobody get the best of her.

At one time there wasn't a person on Earth who would dare try to stand in her way, other than Brittany, of course. But even her oldest sister knew when she meant business.

So how had she gotten this way? How had she become such a dependant leech?

Her 'best friend' had practically pushed her out of her way two years ago, and yet she still followed her around like a lost puppy. She was in denial.

As she scurried along behind the much taller girl who hadn't said a single word to her in the past few hours, she passed a boy she knew quite well. He wore a sad expression in his watery green eyes.

Nobody could talk to her about this and actually get through to her, but if anyone could, then he could.

The short, chubby girl turned away from him, looking back straight ahead. Her 'friend' just walked on, and got on the school bus she rode home without so much as one word. Eleanor attempted to blink back her tears.

She sighed and turned around. There he was, looking at her with those watery green eyes again. She smiled weakly at him. "Hello, Theodore."

"Ellie...a-are you..a-are you crying?" He asked, tilting his head to the side.

"W-what? No..no of course not." She broadened her plastic smile. "I'm fine."

"P-please don't lie..." The boy bit his lip. "I'm worried about you..."

"No need to worry about me, Theo. I can take care of myself."

"I-I know...but..." The chipmunk sighed and looked down at his feet. "I..I can see you, s-slipping away...and there's nothing I can do about it..." He finally glanced back up and looked her in the eyes. "I'm scared, Ellie."

She looked at him blankly. "I have no idea what you're talking about..."

Theodore's soft expression hardened a little bit, and a look of determination came over his face. "I...I think you're in denial, Eleanor."

She crinkled her nose at him. "Don't be silly, Theodore." She glanced around and then looked back at him. "Why do you think that?"

"B-because...Amanda doesn't treat you like a friend should...a-and, I think you deserve to be treated way better than that." Eleanor's eyes narrowed at Theodore. It wasn't often that her anger was directed at the kind little chipmunk, and the expression frightened him a little.

"She's treating me just fine!" She crossed her arms. "You're just jealous! Well guess what Theodore, I've moved on, and so should you! Amanda is my best friend, and she always will be!" When she screamed those words, she couldn't help but hear them bounce back in her head in Amanda's voice.

_I've moved on, and so should you.  
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**Well that's the end of the first one. The name "Amanda" was given to me by BrittMiller when I asked her for a random girls name. Thanks for reading!**_  
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	2. The Germ

**Another drabble! Completely unrelated to the first one, of course.  
Like the first one, this is based around events that have occured in my own life. Hope someone can enjoy!**

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**The Germ**

People stayed away from her, they always had. Whether it was the fact that she didn't talk much, her messy, disheveled looks, maybe they were just intimidated by her intelligence. Either way, nobody spoke to her.

The people around her avoided her like the plague. She wasn't her own person. She was just 'Brittany Miller's sister' or 'the girl chipmunk with glasses'.

She had a face, but she had no name.

On the school bus, on the way home from school, no one would sit with her. They would rather cram four into a seat than get within a foot of _her. _If someone did end up sitting with her, they would scoot as far away as possible, sitting at on the very edge of the bus seat, sometimes it got to the point where they almost fell off.

They treated her as if she were some sort of parasite, some sort of _germ. _As if, if they were to touch her, her social awkwardness and messy looks would spread to them like a disease.

They didn't care for the tears they caused to glisten in her bright, emerald eyes. They didn't care that they were tearing her apart without so much as saying a word.

It didn't matter at all to them, what they did to her. As long as they didn't have to speak to that weird little girl clad all in purple and blue, their days would go on just as normal days should.

At school, group projects were a hassle. She'd always beg to work by herself, only to have the teacher tell her that the project they were working on was a _group _project, so she had to work with a _group, _whether she liked it or not.

Occasionally a few people would want to work with her on particularly difficult projects. It wasn't because they actually wanted to, but because they knew she'd do all the work for them.

They took no shame in that, and didn't even bother to hide it. Even going as far as saying "Let's get Jeanette in our group, she's smart, so we don't have to do anything."

Given her sweet, timid personality, she let them walk all over her, and did all the work for them, not even giving it a second thought.

There were other times, on slightly less difficult group projects, that nobody wanted to be in her group, and she was left with the other outcasts that nobody wanted to be with.

It was an endless cycle, and she hated it with a burning passion.

Sometimes, she would cry. Be it because of the reasons stated above, or something entirely different.

Nobody cared. If someone more liked, more popular, were to so much as shed one tear, the entire student body would crowd around them, begging to know what was wrong. But if someone like herself were to sit at their desk, sobbing and weeping for hours, nobody would even take a second glance.

That was just part of it, the life of a germ.

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**Thank you for reading!**


	3. The Girl in the Mirror

**AN: Okay, so this is the shortest one yet. It's really tiny and badly written, but it was an experiment with writing in first person. It's not in the point of view of anyone in particular, just a random outsider. Again, based on an experience in my life.**

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**The Girl in the Mirror**

She was always there, in that room. No matter the time of day, when someone would enter that room, she was there.

I always found it hard to believe someone could be so fascinated by their own reflection. She would stare into the mirror, fixing her hair and touching her face. Putting on make-up, primping herself for the world outside of the little hallway bathroom.

You'd think, given this was a high school restroom, that she wouldn't have time to constantly be in the room, staring at her reflection. You'd think she'd get tired of it, but she never did.

To say she was narcissistic was putting it lightly. She seemed obsessed with herself.

She was a pretty little thing, alright. Gorgeous, in fact. I knew her name, but I couldn't place it with her face.

She seemed the bitchy but likeable type. She was the kind of girl that most people wanted to be, and if they couldn't be her, they wanted to be friends with her.

To me, though, she seemed the type that I was only fascinated in observing. Watching different emotions glide over her features as she adjusted her ponytail or put on more lip gloss was extremely entrancing.

There was happiness, sadness, anger, pain. It was like watching the entire world, in one single piece of glass.

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**Thanks for reading!**


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